


Forgotten Spaces

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [379]
Category: Leverage, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-07 13:07:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8802004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: trcunning requested Peter Parker is/isn’t related to Parker (Leverage)?





	

Peter tried not to remember the orphanage.

It was cold, and damp, and smelled of overboiled cabbage.  He was small, and everything was big, and structured, everything in its right place except for him.

Aunt May had tried to visit every day, whispering to him about “protocol” and “not much longer, darling,” and words about judges and wills and and a bunch of other stuff he felt he’d never really understand.

All he knew was that the woman from the city had barely waited for the funeral to be over before she’d taken him from his Aunt and Uncle, and put him here.

Everyone moved to a beat he couldn’t hear; no-one had time for a nerdy, scared, grieving kid who just wanted to go _home_.

For most of them, this place, stinking of cabbage and mould, was the only home they’d ever known.

The girl with the blonde hair found him on a Thursday.

Peter had climbed into the tiny crawlspace above the stairs, the only space not already earmarked and occupied by someone else.  She found him, lying in the dust on his belly, his eye glued to the small hole in the plaster.  “That’s my space,” she’d grunted, pushing him over.

But she didn’t push him out, and so Peter stayed, knees pulled up to his chest, watching the girl watch the people below.

The next day, he left the space over the hole free for her.  She grunted, and didn’t acknowledge him again.

Three more days passed, their clothes dusty.  Peter found a spider’s web, and poked the webbing with his finger, frowning at the way it stuck to his finger.  He tried to shake it off, but it didn’t budge until the girl sighed and passed him a handkerchief, a square to bright and nice to be anything of theirs.

Aunt May was excited during her visit, saying words like “soon” and “just need the judge to sign off.”  She brought a box, sealed tight to keep the cupcakes fresh.

Peter took them up, holding them carefully to keep the dust from sullying their perfect frosting.

The girl hesitated when he offered her first pick, but when Peter nodded, her hands darted out and took two.

They shared them, sitting on either side of the hole, in the dust and the dark.  “I’m Peter. Peter Parker.”

She licked her fingers, eyes hungrily fixed on the box.  Peter nudged it over, and she took another two.  “You’re leaving soon, everyone says you’ve got a family.”  She shoved half a cupcake into her face like it was evidence.  “But you’re alright, Peter.”  She chewed, swallowed, her eyes now fixed on him.  “I’m a Parker too.  That means we look out for each other.”

Peter nodded, sticky fingers meeting to solemnize the bond.

Three days later, on a crisp Monday morning, Peter darted up the stairs as Aunt May signed the last of the paperwork.  The cupcake was too bright, out of place in the dark.  Peter draped the handkerchief over it to protect it, and hoped Parker got the message. 


End file.
